


Another Hit To The Backbone

by Gozzer



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Diego Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Diego Hargreeves-centric, Fights, Gen, Homophobic Language, Hurt Diego Hargreeves, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Klaus Hargreeves & David "Dave" Katz During Vietnam, Period Typical Attitudes, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Diego Hargreeves, Racist Language, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Torture, Triggers, Veteran Diego Hargreeves, Veteran Klaus Hargreeves, Vietnam War, War, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:00:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26076067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gozzer/pseuds/Gozzer
Summary: Instead of Klaus being kidnapped by Hazel and Cha Cha, Diego is.
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves/David "Dave" Katz
Comments: 8
Kudos: 153





	Another Hit To The Backbone

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings, just in case. I don't do the nature of war or racism or homophobia justice and I apologize in advance.

Up the stairs the woman went. Diego threw the butter knife and felt it curve through the air to hit her thigh like he wanted. Yet she still moved. He told Allison to go find the others while he chased their attacker through the back staircase. Or he would have. Up the steps and around the halls he watched the woman disappear and he went to follow. But something heavy slammed into the back of his head. He tumbled to the ground with his arms out to catch himself only to get a boot kick to the face. Black spots danced in his vision. His fingers moved to search for something, anything, to throw or use as a weapon but came up empty. Another kick went to his temple and when he blinked back the darkness the bottom of a shoe was coming down on his face. 

He woke up with a startle and slammed his head against something. His face throbbed and he groaned. When he wiggled his hands to run one down his face he found both wrists taped together, and a thick piece of duct tape over his mouth. It was uncomfortable but something he had been trained in as a kid. Dad never wanted them to be without hostage training, just in case something went wrong. It was the one thing he was a good father for. But training could only help so much in the real world. Diego calmed his breathing before kicking his feet to feel how much room he had and where he was; doing the same with his bound hands. It was a trunk, that much was obvious. But that also meant he could kick out the tail light and possibly get someone’s attention. It took a few minutes but his foot finally went through the back and a cool breeze came through. He dropped his head back down to breathe and relax his nerves. It would do no good to get worked up, he knew that much. 

Eventually the car came to a stop but the trunk wasn’t opened. Diego shouted against the tape and kicked the side of the trunk to try and get anyone’s attention. What felt like hours passed of him struggling before the trunk lid was opening. Two people stood over him and he recognized those damn cartoon masks. He shouted curses at them and struggled every step of the way into their motel room. It was one of those places where no one would blink twice at the sound of someone screaming. His stomach turned at the thought. 

The two attackers tied him down to a chair after stripping him of his harness and sweater. It left him shivering in the too cold room. He had never done well in the cold; it was something Dad had tried to fix. That was the only time he could hardly hold his breath and something Dad manipulated and tested for hours on winter days. The cold seized his lungs and made it hard to suck in a breath; it didn’t matter how cold. It was the one thing that ruined that power. But thankfully the two kidnappers didn’t like the cold either and turned up the heating. Diego licked at the duct tape to try and loosen the adhesive like they used to do as kids. Klaus always thought it was hilarious but could never get it to work for himself like Diego or Allison could. It seemed it wasn’t working for him this time either. The tape held fast against his cheeks and now his lips were chapped for no reason. 

At first Diego was asked questions about Five and his family, but when he refused to say anything the torture started. That was the one thing their father never did. Put them through rigorous training and left them tied up in dark rooms for hours, but never stooped so low as to improve their pain tolerance. That happened all on its own from training. But that didn’t mean Diego was having an easy time. The woman, Cha Cha, he figured out, was the cruel and sadistic one of the pair. She did most of the hands on torture while Hazel, the other one, would hold him down when he squirmed too much. The single knife he still had in his holster was her favorite thing to use. He had never regretted carrying them so much as he did at that moment, but he was glad they were as sharp as ever. They cut with zero resistance, and he had gotten very familiar with the feeling of the warm blade coated in his own blood being pulled along his skin.

Hazel and Cha Cha’s least effective technique was when they tried to choke him with a telephone wire. Diego could hold his breath indefinitely if he wanted to. Even the waterboard did more when the water got into his lungs by accident. The most effective that they had done was carving into his open skin then burning the wounds with a hot curling iron. It had him screaming and actually crying at one point. When his knife was driven between his shoulder blades and the tip pulled down along his spine then that damn iron was pressed against the bleeding wound. He could feel tears running down his face and gathering on the tape they had placed over his mouth again. That’s what made him break, the sting and burn that rendered him breathless and trembling like when Klaus would go through withdrawal. His vision would white out with the pain before doing the opposite when the iron was pulled away. He could feel the metal tip searing through his skin and his blood bubbling from the heat. It was too much. 

He gave up where Five might have been but he didn’t know for sure. The only thing he knew was that Five had stolen a van and was watching some building. His brother hadn’t told him anything, they didn’t even talk. It wasn’t a lot but that was all he would give them. They would have to kill him before he spilled anything truly important about his siblings. He only gave in to have some reprieve from the pain. And what he had told them was practically nothing in the scope of what they needed. It worked though. Cha Cha covered his mouth with another piece of tape then Hazel dragged him into the motel closet. Where he was left in the dark. 

At one point the cleaning lady came in but she couldn’t hear his screaming through the tape. Hours went by and Diego knew he fell asleep at some point. Because when he was pulled out of the closet it was dark outside once more and his captors looked pissed. He liked them better with the masks on. When he told them as much, Cha Cha punched him in the face and made his nose start bleeding again. Whatever was wrong they didn’t tell him. He was slapped around a little bit then turned to the door while they went to hide; waiting for Five to show up. Diego had no hopes of his brother coming, or anyone really for that matter. But when the two got into an argument over something and disappeared into the bathroom, Diego caught sight of someone moving through the curtains. It was going to hurt like a bitch and probably cause some damage but he wiggled himself enough to slam his head down on the table. He needed to get the attention of whoever walked by. 

It worked well enough because the door swung open to reveal Klaus crouched down with a card in his hands. Diego had never been so happy to see his brother as he was in that moment. He motioned towards the back of the room and hoped that was enough to convey to Klaus that they needed to be quiet. His brother nodded and scrambled into the room. Unsteady fingers found the lone bloody blade on the table and used it to cut through the tape binding Diego’s hands to the chair. With one free he ripped the tape off his face.

“Get out of here. I’ll take care of them.” Klaus looked skeptical but when Diego pushed him towards the vent he went down. There was movement outside the room and Diego wasted no time in throwing his last knife. He heard it sink deep into someone’s chest with a sick noise. Then he was on his feet and grabbing the still hot curling iron and throwing that towards the bathroom. Throwing things that weren’t typical weapons and curving them took a little more effort but Dad had trained him in that skill as well. There was a loud thump and the sizzle of skin being burned but no one left the room. 

Diego didn’t even bother trying to find his shirt before he was running out of the room. Cha Cha was lying on her back on the ground with his knife through her sternum but he turned to run down the stairs. He found Klaus standing near the bus stop with a briefcase clutched in his arms. A cold breeze made him shiver and caused the still open wounds to sting. Klaus paused for a moment but shrugged off his own patchwork coat to hand it over. For a moment it was quiet while Diego slung the coat over his shoulders but didn't put his arms through the sleeves; the bleeding cuts would sting too much. Then Klaus was asking about the case and trying to decide if they should open it. Diego was too tired to really care but reached out to undo the latches with Klaus held it. A whirring sound started up and when Diego met Klaus’ eyes a bright blue light burst out to wrap around them. 

They landed on something hard and Diego groaned in pain. His back hit a solid object and irritated the healing injury down his spine. Before he could reorient himself a loud thundering noise reached his ears and shook the entire area he was in. He looked over to find Klaus staring at someone sitting up on a bed in front of them. Then some lights turned on and there was shouting and orders and Diego couldn’t think straight. Someone pulled him up and there was a disgusted look on their face but some clothes were shoved into his arms. Glancing over at Klaus showed he was receiving the same treatment. Diego dropped the pants but kept the shirt that was shoved into his arms. An order was shouted at him to get dressed and hurry up that he bit back a snarl at. He had just escaped from hours of torture to be shoved into some active war zone; he wasn’t happy at being told what to do. Klaus caught his arm and pulled him along with fear clouding his features. They didn’t have any training for this. 

Diego kept Klaus’ coat with him despite the air in Vietnam being too hot. The shirt he was forced into made his wounds sting and reopen a few of the smaller ones. Klaus stuck by his side as they were shoved into a bus with guns pressed into their hands. His brother had never been a fighter or even a little soldier for their father, not like Diego had or Luther. It would only make this harder. Diego leaned against the bus window and listened to a soldier introduce himself to Klaus with a frown. They shouldn’t be here, they needed to get back home. But neither of them knew how to use that damn briefcase and didn’t know if they would end up somewhere worse if they tried. It meant they were stuck for the time being. 

Being in the world of an active war was not easy. Diego stuck to Klaus’ side to protect him and defend him against any of the shit thrown their way. War may take whatever able body it wanted but that didn’t mean the other soldiers had to be as accepting. Their platoon was open enough, there were no disgusting words aimed at Klaus and Dave’s relationship or slurs thrown at Diego for his race, but other troops weren’t so nice. The amount of racist and homophobic pieces of shit Diego had beat up was more than enough to get others to shut their mouths. It landed him in some bad spots but he came out on top each and every time. His knuckles were always bruised and bloody, and there was always a bruise on his face from a stray punch. He refused to be silenced or shut up when someone spoke out against his brother or himself. That temper he’d had since a child was finally put to good use. And if it landed him in a cell at camp then well, Klaus didn’t need to know it was because Diego had nearly killed a fellow soldier for saying that queers should burn at the stake; or that a Hispanic was better off dead on the front lines. 

In the nine and a half months that they had been in Vietnam Diego had gotten three tattoos with Klaus, an ear piercing on a dare, and a few new friends. Dave being at the top because he was dating Klaus and a couple more of the men in their platoon. But Diego knew they couldn’t stay in the past forever. They kept the briefcase with them at all times except when they were shipped out into the jungle. The risk of it getting damaged was too big for them to take the chance. It was stored under Klaus’ cot with his coat wrapped around it to ward off others looking for it. Diego had brought it up with Klaus on several occasions but his brother was stubborn and in love; and Diego couldn’t blame him for wanting to stay. In fact, being so far out in this war and away from everyone and things they knew, Diego had started to miss their siblings and Eudora. He wanted nothing more than to see them again but he wasn’t going to destroy Klaus’ chance at real love for the first time in his life. A stray bullet was going to do that. 

Just over the ten month mark and they were out in the trenches once again. Diego dropped down below the hill to reload while bullets were shot over head. There was a rumble of a bomb being dropped in the distance that made him cringe but not stop. He could hear Klaus laughing at something that had him looking over. That laugh soon turned into horror as Klaus tried to get Dave’s attention next to him. Diego pushed over the fallen rifles to get to Dave’s other side and see what was wrong. A bleeding wound sat in the center of Dave’s chest. He knew the man was too far gone to save but that didn’t stop Klaus from crying out for a medic and pressing his hands against the bullet hole. The dropping of bombs and roaring gunfire did nothing to drown out Klaus’ cries. It made Diego’s heart ache and had him moving to hold Klaus as he curled in on himself. Dave’s blood coated Klaus’ fingers and left dark lines on Diego’s fatigues where Klaus clung onto him. His need to make sure his brother was okay kept Diego’s own grief at bay. Klaus needed his attention and help first and foremost. 

Eventually Klaus pulled away and scrambled around in the dirt looking for something while Diego watched out for him. They were still in the middle of a damn fire fight. But Klaus popped up a couple feet away with a familiar briefcase in his hands. Diego didn’t know he had snuck it past him but he was thankful. It was time to go, but they weren’t leaving on a good note. It was tainted by sorrow and grief and tears and death; like their entire time spent in this hellhole. Klaus fell down next to Diego and wasted no time in grabbing Diego’s free hand. The other still held his rifle as he was watching out across the battlefield for any other stray bullets. It fell from his hand just as Klaus flipped open the latches. Diego clung to Klaus’ hand as that same bright light wrapped around them and spit them out in a different time. 

The familiar bus stop did nothing for Diego. He felt Klaus drop his hand and with it he sunk down to his knees on the sidewalk. Bombs and gunfire still echoed in his ears despite it being gone. He curled his arms over his head and pressed his head to his knees. Through the noise he could hear Klaus sobbing next to him. It drew him from his own shock and got him crawling to where Klaus was curled up on the ground crying. Diego caught Klaus’ arms and as gently as he could he pulled them both to their feet. They needed to get home. 

Klaus clung to his side but he didn’t say anything; Diego was holding onto him just as much. When they stumbled through the doors of the Academy Klaus broke away to go take a bath while Diego went to change clothes. The army fatigues were disgusting and he wanted to feel his own clothes against his skin for the first time in ten months. A pair of black jeans and a loose sweater, the sleeves hung over his hands and he wanted nothing more. The familiar smell of home hit so hard he had to sit down on the edge of the bed. He hadn’t realized how much he missed it. It had him burying his face into his hands and using the soft material of his sweater to dry the tears. His fingers brushed the healing wound on the left side of his face and he hissed in pain. The last fight he had gotten in ended with his opponent in the med tent barely breathing and a near identical cut on the left side of Diego’s head like his right. (“How ‘bout we even up that ugly face of yours, spic?”) He could still feel the sting of the blade just barely missing stabbing his eye and catching down the side of his head. The medics had had to cut his hair back down to even clean the wound. Klaus had laughed and made a joke about him no longer looking like Antonio Banderas that only they got and confused Dave. 

The straying of his thoughts to Dave brought him to Klaus’ room to wait for his brother. His boots scuffed the wood floor and he was tempted to kick them off. Instead he sat back on Klaus’ bed with his feet hanging off the edge and let his head fall against the wall. The smell of dirt and blood and gunpowder still clinging to his skin made him sigh. It was a clash of smells that would stick with him forever no matter how much he scrubbed and washed. For a few minutes he sat in silence until the door was opening and Klaus came in with only a towel around his waist. Diego had seen enough of his brother to no longer be bothered. But he closed his eyes to give Klaus some privacy in getting dressed. Another set of footsteps had Diego cracking open an eye to watch Five enter the room. He kept quiet as Five and Klaus got into over the time travel and the stupid briefcase; he didn’t give a shit about it. When Klaus moved to leave the room Diego pulled himself up to follow. 

“You got some blood on your face.” Five commented just as Diego reached the doorway. He could see Klaus standing at the top of the stairs and looking back, waiting for him. “Might want to clean it before you scare someone.”

“If I wanted your opinion I would’ve asked.” His voice was hoarse and quiet from disuse. Their commanding officers didn’t like when he talked back or got into fights. The nights he spent locked away for ‘disturbing the peace’ had just become an excuse to them to beat him senseless after a fight. It became easier to shut up and fight instead of talking back and making it worse. Klaus and Dave had figured it out several months ago but they never pushed. He would talk when he wanted to. When a situation required a correction or someone to be called out on their bullshit.

“Dee? You coming?” Klaus’ voice came down the hall and made Diego finally leave the room. There was revenge to get if he hadn’t already killed Cha Cha when he escaped, and if he hadn’t, then well, he’s had a lot of practice in winning fights. 


End file.
